Going upstairs, we stepped into Tapatapa, a Spanish restaurant known for its classical Paella. There’s nothing more appealing than its cozy atmosphere. Amidst the chitchats, every space is filled with warming light bulbs, pine trees, and gleaming decorations, soft cushions lying on the wooden chair. “Hi! I’m Kevin, the manager here. Table for two?” The greeting was done in his glimmer of a smile, corresponding with the warmth of the surroundings. We followed him to enter the

The Security Guard’s View from his Post As the night descends into deep blue, wrapping neighborhood houses in sleepy, shadowy silhouettes, the security guard’s post—a tiny, steel-windowed booth—stays adrift in a bubble of warm light.  Knock, knock . Surprised and uneasy towards visitors at this hour, he tentatively opened a crack of the window and quickly stepped out of the booth. He looked quite young, as I later learned he had only recently begun working in the neighborhood

Demolition areas are cracks in the glamorous porcelain veneer of a city. It was in one of those cracks where I met him. Strolling along the Suzhou River, I watched the towering skyscrapers of the Bund gleam in the sun. Yet, glancing around the neighborhoods around me, it was as if the sun had never reached these corners. A few shops were hidden under scaffolds, their fading signs blinking weakly. His shop stood out — tucked away in the depths of a food market. Most of the sho

8 o’clock pm, he was standing solemnly in the grey, box-like security booth, eyes firmly fixated on the road and the gate of the residential area. Now or then, a courier or a deliveryman would pop up at the gate, and he would ask them the precise delivery information, and pick up his walkie-talkie to inform his colleagues of who to expect at the residential buildings. Then, he would return to his original stance, gazing at the twinkling street like a dedicated sentinel. The s

In the age of online shopping and next-day delivery,  a different rhythm of commerce persists in a cozy shop. Colorful paintings, pigments, and brushes, stacking over each other on the wooden shelves; the slight cozy vibe blends through the twenty years passed by, in which Mei and her husband have owned this store, a treasure trove. the shop She looked around this place, “Every single day, for the past twenty years, from nine to nine, we are always here.” The regular routine

At 10 p.m., the grocery store is still awake. The fluorescent lights hum softly above narrow aisles stacked with instant noodles, bottled drinks, cigarettes, and snacks that seem to exist for moments like this—moments when hunger is small but persistent, when sleep feels close but not quite reachable. Outside, the street has thinned out. Inside, the owner stands behind the counter, unhurried, waiting. Ms. He has been here since morning. She will close at midnight, and return

Two hands covered with wrinkles, guiding people with his own light-yellow taxi. Routinely, Mr. Yu drove from Chongming Island to downtown Shanghai. Beneath the towers of Lujiazui, he had carried countless passengers, each with their own destination, while his own heart remained anchored to the small island across the water.  “If I am at the place where I work, my home is somewhere else, where pressure and anxiety are nowhere to be found.” Here, he wakes up before the sun rise

“I never wanted to be strong,” she told me. “I just had to be.” She sat on the sofa, and the light glimmered on her face. There was something steady in her presence, the calm of someone who had seen storms and learned to stand through them. She was my grandmother’s longtime friend and former business partner, and, about a decade ago, she also lived in the apartment on the floor just above ours. She is a Shanghainese and grew up in a Western-style townhouse in Shikumen on Wes

The Shanghai International Youth Orchestra is warming up. The sound is a familiar chaos to Ms. Liu—a cacophony of scales, the thump of a bass line, the lyrical sigh of a flute finding its pitch. She moves through it all not as a performer, but as a force of calm. Her hands, adorned only with a simple silver ring, are constantly in motion: straightening a stack of sheet music, typing a last-minute email, gently guiding a nervous cellist towards their seat. Ms. Liu is the orche

After yesterday's interview, on my way back to the dorm, Kirara suddenly came to mind again. The professor had asked me, “How do you define art?” I paused, and my mind flashed through countless images. The clearest one was the lawn at Brown University, with her sitting beside me, sketching formulas on blades of grass with her pen. I told the professor, “To me, art is humanity's way of communicating with the world. It's not merely an expression of emotion, but an attempt at un

I got to know Celeste as a family friend. My father and she were classmates in university, and we played football together. In our conversations, we would jump from Chinese to English, and occasionally Spanish, her native language. As a Bolivian living thousands of miles from home, Celeste truly embodied how diversity isn’t just a word, but the experience of learning, adapting, and growing in a place that is foreign yet somehow familiar. “Cultural diversity,” she explained in

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Every morning at six, Mr. Xiong starts his taxi. By 10 p.m., he’ll finally call it a day. Sixteen hours, one seat, hundreds of brief...

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Striking out onto YuYuan Road, I encountered a figure who has called this bustling city home for over two decades. With a warm smile and...

The clouds were tinted in soft shades of rose and tangerine, brushed by the late afternoon sun as it slowly dipped behind the Shanghai...

Laughing, smiling, and a pony doll leaning back on the bench beside them, I met a group of friends who have known each other for decades....

To many, the life of a model looks like glamour, travel, and flashing cameras. For Ceren, a Turkish model working in Shanghai, it often...

I met Mei in a cozy morning in Zhongshan Park, where tender raindrops caressed the green petals of tulips. He was playing football with...

It’s difficult to imagine a fishing village and market town transforming to today’s megacity simply in a few decades’ time. Shanghai’s...